Shifting back with a snort, he reaches for that previously half-touched glass of wine, continuing to sip at it as though it's nothing more than reflexive, rather than desired: something done just to be done.
"Incandescently." Astarion breathes, just against the lip of his cup. "But she was before then, too."
And the sigh that chases it is— despite everything— sober. Walks the line of self-awareness. "I thought if I lent her a hand tonight with her little scheme, she'd realize I was— that I wasn't— mm."
no subject
Shifting back with a snort, he reaches for that previously half-touched glass of wine, continuing to sip at it as though it's nothing more than reflexive, rather than desired: something done just to be done.
"Incandescently." Astarion breathes, just against the lip of his cup. "But she was before then, too."
And the sigh that chases it is— despite everything— sober. Walks the line of self-awareness. "I thought if I lent her a hand tonight with her little scheme, she'd realize I was— that I wasn't— mm."